


Fisher Queen

by placentalmammal



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Anal Sex, Cumplay, Exhibitionism, F/M, Group Sex, Oral Sex, Tentacles, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-05-01 02:14:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5188289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/placentalmammal/pseuds/placentalmammal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>F!Courier becomes the willing prisoner of a group of horny lakelurks. Originally posted on the Fallout Kink Meme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fisher Queen

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: "I would love to see a sentient lakelurk/mirelurk get it on with a female LW or courier."
> 
> Originally posted [here](http://falloutkinkmeme.livejournal.com/6099.html?thread=15568339#t15568339).

Lake Mead was blessedly cold after hours in the stale, irradiated air of Vault 34. Inside the Vault, the air was thick and hot, like an insulated attic on a summer day. Edith had been completely unprepared for the heat, and stripped gratefully as soon as she and Boone reached the lakeshore.

He turned his back, embarrassed, while she peeled off layers of grimy, sweat-soaked clothes and muttered something about building a fire or setting up camp and rushed off, leaving her with relative privacy. Edith threw her panties at his retreating back, hooting with laughter, before she kicked off her boots and jumped into the cold, murky water.

The chill knocked the air from her lungs and she gasped as she surfaced, nipples standing out like 9mm rounds. She gave herself a few moments to adjust to the cold before she waded in any deeper, skin prickling and turning to gooseflesh as she waded in thigh-deep. Edith held her breath and dunked herself a few more times, scraping the worst of the day’s filth from her skin, before she kicked off against the stony lake bottom and paddled into deeper waters.

She’d grown up out east in a ramshackle metropolis straddling a slow-moving river, and she was a strong swimmer. Lake Mead was nothing like the lakes and rivers of her hometown, but when she submerged herself and swam along the lakebed, she could almost forget the distance between herself and home.

Edith surfaced again and let herself float on top of the water, staring up at the darkening sky. The sun was setting, and the first stars were winking into existence, faded and dull in comparison to Vegas’ brilliant neons. She could just barely pick out the shapes of Orion and the Big Dipper, and the realization sent a pang through her. She sighed and rolled from her back to an upright position, treading instead of floating.

The shoreline was much farther away than she had anticipated, easily 100 yards. She kicked and set out towards the beach and the distant orange glow of Boone’s campfire. The lake water had cooled her sweat, and she’d begun to shiver, so she lengthened her strokes, compensating for the chill with the heat of her own exertion. She was only twenty yards from shore when a hand reached up from the depths and pulled her under.

Edith lashed out on instinct, kicking down at the unseen thing. Her foot connected with something slick but hard, like a moss-covered stone. The grip on her ankle tightened, claws biting into her flesh without breaking it, and her stomach dropped as she realized what had taken hold of her.

Everybody knew about lakelurks. They were freshwater beasties, man-sized, with hard crustacean shells and horrible, hooked claws. Once or twice a year, bodies would wash up, pale and bloated from drowning, orifices torn and distended from their time with the Lakelurks. Growing up, Edith had joked about the ‘rapelurks’ with her friends, and they’d all thought themselves too quick and too clever to fall prey to the monsters. There were simple rules to protect yourself; Edith had learned them young: stay out of the water during spawning season, and never swim too far from shore.

She kicked at it again, writhing in the beast’s grip as her lungs burned from lack of oxygen. It towed her along the lakebed, unconcerned with her struggles. It was considerate enough to let her up for gulps of air before it pulled her back underwater, disorienting her with each successive breath. It swam in long, even strides, propelling itself with fluid, sinuous motions, more like a fish than a man, pulling her along effortlessly. They were moving parallel to the shore, away from camp, like a riptide. The campfire grew more and more distant, then disappeared as the lakelurk pulled her into some underground grotto lit by bioluminescent lichens. Edith’s inner scientist was fascinated, even as her outer survivalist fought the thing for freedom.

They surfaced abruptly, and the lakelurk dragged her out of the water, onto a stony outcrop. It pinned her against the rough wall in an obscene parody of a lover’s embrace, its claws like vices on her upper arms, its almost-human face looming over her like a satellite in the darkness. Edith made her fingers into a spearpoint and jabbed at its eyes, but it turned, her hand glancing uselessly off its armored plates. She was strong and tough; and could easily have beaten the thing if it hadn’t caught her nude and unarmed. She cursed herself for a fool and thought longingly of the 8-inch combat knife lying abandoned on the stony beach alongside her clothing, screaming in rage and frustration.

Her shout reverberated off the slick cave walls like a high C in an opera house as she pounded furiously at the thing’s shell. From somewhere deeper in the cave, an answering call sounded, immediately taken up by a chorus of inhuman voices. Edith went still, blood turning to ice. _There was more than one of them._

Against one, she might have stood a chance. Against a colony? She was doomed.

Her captor chirruped at her reproachfully. _Now look what you’ve done_ , it seemed to say, censure in its orange eyes.

All around them, heads emerged from the water, eyes reflecting gold in the dim light. Edith counted four, in addition to her captor, no clear alpha among them. Her captor was a mid-sized specimen white belly and spines; the others ranged from uniform grey to iridescent blue. There was hunger and animal intelligence in their eyes.

The white-bellied lakelurk turned its head from Edith to its fellows, gauging the situation. It hissed, gills flaring, teeth bared in a clear threat display. It leaned in closer, its slimy chest just brushing Edith’s breasts. The sensation of its slick skin against her erect nipples was not unpleasant, and she shivered despite herself. As she’d grown childhood jokes and cautionary tales had matured into adolescent curiosity and finally, into adult fantasies. A splinter of id clawed its way to the surface of her mind and bellowed in triumph, pumping its fists in the air.

 _If I survive,_ she thought grimly, _I’m going to cut it out and dissect it._

The lakelurk licked her cheek. Its tongue was black, like a labrador’s, and rough, like a cat’s. The creature smelled, not overwhelmingly, like seaweed, and its skin felt like sandpaper, rough but slick against her flesh. Edith closed her eyes and shuddered as it pressed even closer to her, caught between dread and anticipation as she felt its cock against her thigh.

She risked a glance at its penis: it was blue and glowing in the faint light, luminescent like the plantlife coating the walls. It protruded from a patch of pale flesh underneath a retractable plate, and seemed to undulate slightly, moving with a mind of its own, like a tentacle. The monster’s cock seemed to grasp for her, finding her opening without effort, and slipping inside with a movement so sudden that Edith found herself sucking in a great gasp of air and clutching at the lakelurk for support.

It was cold and sudden as plunging into the lake, and it conformed to her body, filling her completely. The lakelurk didn’t thrust into her like a human would, it just held her steady as its strange cock twitched and writhed inside of her. She gasped again, and spread her legs wider, and the tentacle surged deeper into her, greedy and searching. Something slick and cool dripped from her cunt and ran down her thigh, warming against her skin as her cheeks burned with pleasure and shame. Edith cried out again, voice echoing in the stone chamber, beating her fists futilely against the lakelurk’s chest. Less than a minute inside her, and she was on the verge of coming.

Her orgasm was rich and strange, and she thrashed wildly in the lakelurk’s hold, her pussy shuddering and contracting around its slick, cool length. She screamed in pleasure and fear, not caring what beast might stir in the cave’s depths. She’d fuck a kraken if it would fill her as well as the lakelurk’s bizarre cock.

The lakelurk’s dick seemed to swell inside of her, and unleased a sudden rush of fluid. It pulled out as abruptly as it had penetrated her, splashing her legs and thighs with more of its strange, slick cum. It stepped back, unhooking its claws from her arms, and Edith fell to the ground, weak-kneed. She locked eyes with another of the lakelurks, and it surged out of the water, revealing a cock already erect and freed from its armored sheath. It fell upon her clumsily, claws digging into her chest, then resumed where its brethren had left off, feeding its slick length into her unresisting cunt inch by inch. Edith felt nearly faint from pleasure.

One-by-one, the lakelurks emerged from the water. Her captor stood back, watching, something like pride on its face, as the others fucked her. One of the creatures settled itself on her chest and she opened her mouth for it eagerly, shivering in delight as its cock slid down her throat. The fluids tasted like salt water and brine, fishy and not unpleasant. Another negotiated with the second for her asshole, somehow managing to slide into place without disturbing the other’s rhythm. Edith screamed again, her cry muffled by the tentacle in her mouth, but the bright, sear of pain faded as the lakelurk’s cock began twitching and writhing in time with the one in her mouth and pussy.

 _Their fluid must contain a natural lubricant and analgesic_ she thought dazedly, _could bottle it up and smell it for a thousand caps an ounce!_ It was the last coherent thought before the lakelurk in her cunt reached its orgasm, vocalizing in strange chirps and harsh barks before pulling out, coating her lower body with its juices.

The last lakelurk, who’d been standing off to the side, watching and chirruping in agitation, immediately took over the vacated position. Its face filled her field of vision, and Edith’s pleasure-addled mind decided that it was a nice face, certainly no more alien to her delicate, human sensibilities than a ghoul or supermutant. She reached out for the nearest lakelurk, clutching at it as she reached her second orgasm.

The lakelurk in her mouth was the last to finish, still twitching inside of her and chirping with pleasure as its fellows came inside her ass and pussy, saturating her bottom half with thick, cool lakelurk spunk. The final lakelurk twitched, shuddered, and came with a roar, pumping her full of its cum, straining her throat with the effort of swallowing it all. When it pulled out, it dribbled all over her face, its cum running down her chin and trickling between her full, breasts. Edith choked and spluttered, feeling strangely sore and empty. Her legs were still jelly, but she felt stronger and clearer-headed without the cocks inside of her.

The lakelurks stood around her, arrayed in a solemn semi-circle, golden eyes fixed on her. Their cocks were already retreating into their sheaths, their work completed. Edith was almost sad to see them go, even as she savored the filthy feeling of being covered in their cum.

 _So what now?_ she thought, pulling her knees up to her chest. _Dinner?_

She was surprised when the lakelurks slid back into the inky water, returning to their hiding places deep in the cave and leaving her there, unhurt but still weakened and trembling. Perhaps they didn’t kill their victims, perhaps those bodies had belonged to people who lacked the strength to swim to freedom after their ordeal.

Edith slipped into the water, held her breath, and dove, grateful for the light of the glowing lichens. The lakelurk cum washed away clean, floating to the surface of the water like oil, and she was almost sad to see it go. She surfaced for air, avoiding the water slick with spunk, and dove again, feeling along the bottom for the tunnel to the lake. She swam its length and surfaced in Lake Mead. The sun had set completely, leaving the water reflective and dark as black paint. She swam to freedom, hugging the shoreline, and finally emerged, exhausted, on the beach beside her discarded clothing. She hated to redress in dirty clothes, but there was nothing to be done about it.

It wouldn’t do to let Boone see the bruises, at any rate. She shivered. Those were hers, a private memento of her time in the grotto.

Boone had built the fire up to a decent size by the time she’d judged herself decent. He barely glanced up as she dropped down next to him. “The water’s absolutely _lovely_ ,” she said cheerfully. “You ought to go for a dip.”

He glanced at her and frowned. “You stink like fish.”

Edith shrugged, unable to suppress her grin. “I guess I do.”


End file.
